


Stormwing

by ShatteredSwallowtail



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, Not underage because demon ciel is 17 here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 15:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSwallowtail/pseuds/ShatteredSwallowtail





	Stormwing

The first faint, echoing roll of thunder drew him, fingertips stilling in their almost trance-like perusal of the delicate carvings on the window embrasure. Almost, but not quite absent-minded. No, nothing was ever completely without volition, without thought. Such a thing would require that one cease in the rambling of all thought process and simply give in to instinct and rote, allowing reflex action to take over the faculties of self, and Ciel Phantomhive was not one to give over control to anything; even the ever-present lure of his subconscious. As for thought itself, that was something he had ample amount of; that and time. The latter, he considered almost mockingly as black-lacquered nails slid softly, silently up the windowpane. Their companion fingertips pressed cool obeisance against the flat sheet of glass beyond which the firmament of the heavens had already begun to darken in ominous shades.

Nothing BUT time, if he was completely honest with himself, which he usually wasn’t.

Another storm, nothing unusual during the humid summer months of the year, and nothing that would have caught the attention of the boy he had once been. In fact, when he had been human -- it seemed at once so long ago and only a moment passed -- he’d scarcely given the pounding of rain or the rumble of a sky in torment more than a passing glance. Storms in his childhood had meant fear of the crack and flash and flare of lightning, running feet shuffling along the polished wooden manor floors and a flurry of sound and motion as a frightened child had hurled his nightshirt-clad body into the warm and inviting embrace of smiles and love. His mother had never judged, never questioned, simply snuggled him down into the blankets between herself and his father, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and smoothing his hair as somnambulant peace had stolen its way into his mind once again. After the fragile bubble that had been his childhood was gone, ruptured and dried on the ground -- like the ones she’d taught him to make as a boy, using a loop of wire and some soapy water to create them, all delicate and rainbow-hued as they floated in the sky towards eternity -- he had stubbornly refused to give into the fear. Refused to sacrifice his pride and seek out the only comfort he had any longer; that of black-clad arms and gloved hands that he’d been unwilling to admit were capable of soothing terror equally as well, simply for differing reasons.

No, he was the Earl of Phantomhive, not a sniffling child fraught with night terrors or a youth who gave in to the easy lure of comfort and closeness. Weaknesses would be put aside, hidden and secreted away beneath carefully layered facades and sheets of pride and scorn and strength. Small matter if the sudden cracks of sound through the night still jolted him awake, still caused his breath to catch in his throat and his pulse to race until pride caught up with nerves and he harshly reminded himself that only foolish children feared something so inane as the weather. And eventually, as the strength of will and mind exerted itself over quaking limbs and trembling lower lip, he’d begun to believe his own words, and the trepidation with which he had once greeted the roll of the heavens had faded away, until a storm on the horizon became little more than an inconvenience. A nuisance when there was work to be done, pinning him inside where he could do little more than rage silently. After all, even when one had a demon as his personal dog and servant, not even then could he simply order the tempest to abate.

Though it might have been amusing to see the results had he tried.

His thoughts and opinions had changed little since his conversion, his baptism into darkness, sanctioned by Alois Trancy’s wish. That wish that had forever bound he and Sebastian into their unholy covenant, that had cemented the last order he had given the butler as a human. He still viewed the rapidly-darkening heavens with something akin to scorn that such a mundane thing as the weather should dare to darken his mood even the slightest, sense of outrage and entitlement still as strong in his noble-raised mind as it had ever been. Only... there was something else now, something else that drew him like moth to flame to the darkened panes with their flickering reflections as the clouds rebelled against the heavens overhead.

Now... his irritation was less at the storm itself, and more at himself. At the fact that he found himself looking forward to it, stepping closer to press palms to the windowpane in a manner that was achingly reminiscent of the child he had once been, staring almost wistfully up at the slate-coloured clouds that roiled by overhead, the muscles in youthful jaw tensing as another deep-seated groan issued forth from heavenward. It was pathetic, in his mind, the way some part of him, some smaller, more instinctive part tensed as the wind picked up, coiling like a spring within his core, booted feet fidgeting slightly as if in anticipation of something. A bird, waiting for the winds that were certain to gust forth from the tempest. Growling at his own repugnant behaviour, the little one curled fist against the windowpane as he tore rapt gaze from the sky and retreated to the ancient vestment with it’s worn velvet covered cushion. Curling his slight form into it’s embrace, he stubbornly turned his attention from the storm, scowl only deepening at a velvet whisper of sound echoed from behind him, the chuckle only souring his mood further.

“Perhaps my lord would like me to procure an umbrella, so that he may enjoy the storm in a more comfortable manner?”

Blue eye flashed claret for a moment before the fledgling glanced over his shoulder at the familiar black silhouette standing all too close. Always too close, too silent, too.... everything. And nothing. Perfect manners, perfect poise, perfect.... everything. Inwardly cursing the sudden dusting of colour he KNEW sprayed across his cheeks, he recoiled with a haughty look and addressed Sebastian with a petulant snarl.

“Don’t be a fool, Sebastian. I have no intentions of venturing out in such weather. The thought is patently ridiculous. Don’t bring it up again.”

The raven responded with a simple nod and a smooth affirmation as he bowed, one pristinely-gloved hand pressed lightly over his breast in that same infuriating manner. Ruby irises winked from behind silken black fringe for a moment as one elegant black eyebrow quirked before the smiling mask slid into place. He had caught the faint shift in colour on the little one’s cheeks, the sudden hitch in breathing as his presence made itself known, and there was no denying the amusement that he felt at Ciel’s discomfort. He knew this mood, knew it as well as he knew every mood and facet of his lord’s complex and multi-layered personality. Just as he knew that this particular stormy night would end differently than the rest. The fact that he himself would be the cause of that was incidental, of course.

“Of course, my lord. Perhaps some tea, then?”

Fanged teeth ground against each other as his mood blackened only further with every saccharine word that dripped from Sebastian’s lips. Couldn’t the bloody demon just leave him alone? Did he have to persist in this illusion of normalcy when nothing was normal, least of all THEM? His fist clenched before he regarded his butler with a cold countenance, voice clipped and hard as he gave his reply.

“NO, Sebastian. I do not want tea, nor dinner, nor anything, now leave me in peace!”

He snapped, temper getting the better of him as he lashed out, feeling the sting of claws against palms as nails lengthened in response to his mood, knowing his visible eye was slitted and scarlet and that the illusion he tended to drape himself in -- more for some small measure of normalcy in his OWN mind than anything else -- was wavering as his control slackened. He was still young, still inexperienced, even in such things as this, his self-control and grasp of new powers and abilities that of a novice. Sucking in a deep breath, the not-boy closed eyes for a moment, firming concentration for a few heartbeats before fixing mismatched gaze on the butler’s waiting figure.

“All I wish is to be left alone and not disturbed. Is that clear, Sebastian?”

Emotion flickered faint and fleeting on that perfect face as he watched the play of changes across his little lord’s visage, the familiar blue eye shifting as vermilion bled into it, the faint hazy shapes of horns and frilled tail flickering in and out of sight as wings rustled against that small back. So many changes, so much emotion, such a curious and titillating package of controversies was Ciel. Even as a demon, when most lost touch with emotions and feelings, apathy replacing what once had been, he retained so much of his human self. It was... endearing, if he dared put the word towards his small master. But, as always, he was ever the faithful servant as he nodded to the order that was not an order, at least not in words though it carried the weight of the unspoken command. And just as quickly, his own face measured the change as effortless illusion slid back into place and he bowed again, voice all plush velvet and honeyed syrup.

“Of course, my lord. Is there anything you require before I depart?”

At the negative, the butler was gone in a faint step of sound and a whisper of black. Ciel’s eyes watched the door slip shut almost inaudibly, sighing as he let out the breath he’d been unintentionally holding. It was, to a fact, the least troubling of the things that he ‘held’, but the easiest to let go of and relegate to that portion of his mind that simply accepted. At another crackle of lightning, another flash of the heavens against the sky, he turned gaze back to the window. 

Back to the storm. 

Closing his eyes, the little one let his mind wander for once, as though by doing so he could somehow connect with the turbulent force of nature that raged on the other side of the thin partition separating boy from sky. Or perhaps not so separated were they. For while he could deny the surge and pull of his own emotions to another all he liked, it was a different matter entirely when faced -- quite literally -- with his own demons.

Or demon, rather, as there was only one, when he declined to include himself into the equation that a perhaps over-analytical mind persisted in turning in the depths and whorls of his psyche. Theirs was a relationship that vexed him in it’s entirety, both in it’s complexity and it’s simplicity. On the surface, they were simply master and servant, Ciel and Sebastian, the one bound eternally to the other as fully and completely as could be, destined to serve for eternity. Only... even then it wasn’t that simple. Sebastian served out of obligation, out of necessity and requirement. Not out of a desire to do so, and Ciel certainly had no illusions to the contrary. He was no fool, after all. Their contract, eternal though it now was, was little more than a shackle around Sebastian’s neck, a veritable collar that leashed the devil as surely as chains forged in iron or steel.

It was HIS feelings that were the problem.

Sighing slightly to himself, the once-earl stepped away from the window, opening eyes and reaching up one hand to gesture slightly. Brow furrowed, slate-blue brows drawing together as he concentrated, focusing inward, searching for that core, that calm place where something seethed and writhed and waited for his call. In answer, the curtains twitched, dusty velvet folds rustling slightly, tugging against their tarnished brass finials as though pulled by a small hand. Teeth gritted, jaw tensed, and will pushed and with another shuddering note of resistance the fabric obediently slid itself aside, tucking behind the carved hook as smoothly as if it had been pushed their by an unseen hand. Pleased with himself, the demonling did the same with the other side before turning attention back to the window itself. His powers might have been rather paltry at times when compared to Sebastian’s, but he could still derive satisfaction from exerting his will over his surroundings.

If only everything was so simple. So cut and dry, such a matter of willpower and determination and simply deciding that he wanted to do something. Feelings, emotions... those things were different, they were nebulous and shifting, and confusing. Like the storm, his emotions always seemed so...... so overwhelming. They made him want to run, want to escape and just... just fly, fly far away and not look back, outrun everything that frightened him, everything that made him doubt, made him wonder, made him hope... for things he had no business hoping for. Things that were ridiculous to even consider, regardless of how much the heart he tried to deny he had... yearned for them.

It was maddening, maddening enough to drive him to distraction, the way he couldn’t make it stop, couldn’t make it go away, and the feelings themselves fanned his emotions into anger and frustration. It wasn’t FAIR that he should be burdened with this while the source of his frustrations continued on at a blithely ignorant pace. Sebastian was never bothered by such trivial things as feelings and emotions. Sebastian didn’t have to grit his teeth against sudden bursts of want or need that he’d never even wished to have in the first place. Sebastian didn’t sit and feel his heart twist as those same feelings drew ever tighter around it. Sebastian.... Sebastian was bloody perfect.

And Ciel hated him for it.

Almost before he realized what he was doing, the fledgling was on the sill of the window, black-nailed hands shoving the casement open as the wind billowed in around him, the dust-covered curtains of the old abandoned house that had become nest to him and the raven snapping like pennants in the sudden surge of air and water that assailed them. Shielding his eyes for just a moment against the fury of the storm, the little one tensed before he soared out of the window into a dive, indigo-black wings catching his slight weight at the pinnacle of his leap and sending him soaring up into the heavens, pendant swallowtails twirling behind him, concealed to all but a certain pair of ruby eyes that watched with amusement from another window.

Sebastian’s mouth turned up in a slight smirk as he observed the young one’s flight, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he shook his head faintly. Really, such impulsive behaviour from his young master. He assumed the not-child had no idea that his butler was well aware of his occasional and increasingly frequent forays into stormy skies, and that suited his intentions perfectly well as he mounted the stairs to the rooftop terrace, stepping lightly out onto the tile floor. The butler stood there for a long moment, watching as the little black figure faded into the darkness of the clouds and the harsh flash of lightning. Sighing, the raven raised a hand as he nipped pristine gloves from his fingers as he felt the weight of his own wings take shape on his back. A few cursory stretches and flaps of heavy feathers and he was airborne, soaring off after the little demon he served.

Really..... so troublesome at times.

Ciel flew, eyes closed, hardly caring where he was going as he darted between cloud-banks, dodging forked bolts of lightning, wings tucked to spin and fall and weave. God, this was honestly the best part of his new ‘life’, if it could be called that. This utter freedom, the ability to soar as high and as far as he wanted, to lose himself in the sheer sensation of it. Banking sharply, he climbed, up and up and up until his eyes began to tear and it was so much easier to let the real tears free to mingle with the ones that biting winds drew from his eyes.

He could escape him....

Those eyes that haunted his dreams, that face that hadn’t left his thoughts, that voice that still whispered in his ears every moment of every day, tantalizing him with thoughts and feelings and fantasies that were all unbidden, that weren’t reality because they couldn’t be reality because he was little more than a millstone around the elder demon’s neck, a curse to be borne like the cross of a Christ he had once believed in. It wasn’t right, wasn’t fair that he should be tormented thusly, tortured and hounded by phantoms and phantasies of wishes that would remain unfulfilled. Nights kept awake by dreams that seduced and tempted and left him sweat-drenched and panting and aching for something he didn’t even understand, something that frightened him in it’s intensity. Countless little moments where the brush of a hand, the faint whisper of breath against nape sent nerves jangling and mind screaming into a vortex of overwhelming confusion.

The boy was no fool, he knew at least to some degree what it meant, what all those things that demanded attention wanted him to admit, to accept and acknowledge, and he ran from them, refusing to listen. It was futile, it was useless, and so in that knowledge what was the point in even allowing himself to confess to what was there. To what waited, curling within him with no outlet, no relief.

He couldn’t love Sebastian.

Putting aside the fact that it was just ludicrous in it’s entirety, because only a fool placed himself out onto a limb when he knew for a fact that the hand he reached for would simply snap the seemingly sturdy branch from the tree while those mocking eyes watched him fall. Not because Sebastian was altogether heartless -- he knew for a fact that demons had hearts, after all HE had one, didn’t he? -- or even because he thought the other cruel. He knew for a fact that his butler had the capacity for emotion, the ability to feel things beyond the mocking amusement he always showed. It was just that he had no reason to think that any other emotion would be directed towards HIM. Another clap of thunder jolted him from his thoughts and he dodged another especially thick whorl of clouds as he flew deeper into the storm of his own tangled thoughts and emotions.

There was no warning, no portent of things to come as the lightning flashed, illuminating everything in lurid stark detail as a dark shape hurtled out of the clouds to slam into him, sending him tumbling through the heavens. Head spinning, Ciel was vaguely conscious of the familiar feeling of strong arms around him, his slighter form cradled against firm chest with it’s comforting scent of cinnamon and spice and something else, something undefinable but umistakably Sebastian. Blinking rainwater from his eyes and shaking drenched bangs from his face, the little one glanced up into that face that he had tried so hard to flee from, small mouth turning down into a scowl as he pushed irritatedly at the raven’s chest.

“S..Sebastian! What are you doing? I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed, are you de-”

Any further words were cut off as that devilish mouth clamped over his with bruising force, one of Sebastian’s large hands winding into the sodden hair at the nape of his neck, the other arm still holding him close. Ciel’s eyes shot open wide, his startled gasp swallowed up as Sebastian’s tongue invaded his mouth with wanton, possessive force. Lips moved, coaxing his response with surprising gentleness for all the harsh roughness of the kiss itself as he felt himself relaxing in spite of himself, little fingers curling into drenched black cloth, head tilting just so as he nudged his own tongue against Sebastian’s in a hesitant dance, eyelids slipping closed.

That mouth released him only enough to slide down to his throat, eliciting little gasping moans from the swallowtail as his own wings simply folded against his back, letting the raven wing them through the torrent of rain and wind, spinning with dizzying speed until they burst from the clouds into the space above the storm, wide expanse of starlit sky opening up around them. A gasp tore from the little one’s throat that had nothing at all to do with the lips and teeth that were leaving little bruised florets adorning his pale skin. He’d never flown this high, this far before, and it was... simply breathtaking.

A muted chuckle rumbled against his throat as Sebastian raised his head with a final nip to Ciel’s marked neck, claret eyes joining the pair of blue ones that stared heavenward in childish wonder. He nuzzled just slightly against that small shoulder as their pace slowed, wing-beats keeping them aloft but no higher as he straightened to tilt the little bird’s head, looking his master in the eye.

“If my lord wishes to experience the storm’s fury, there are other ways to do so that do not involve drenching oneself and one’s clothing such.”

One ungloved hand slipped up, ebony fingertips brushing at the little one’s cheek before he cupped that small face in his hand, thumb tracing softly against porcelain skin. The mark of their contract shone starkly against pale flesh, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly against the tender softness beneath Ciel’s marked eye as he nudged the patch out of the way to bare the violet-scarred orb.

“It is hardly prudent to court risk this way in a misguided attempt to outrun yourself, Bocchan. Especially... when you have no reason to be running in the first place. Perhaps my lord would see this if he ceased feeling sorry for himself long enough to simply open his eyes and see that there are many things he has refused to acknowledge. A great number of things... that could give him answers to his many questions. One query in particular, I believe, that involves myself and vexes my lord most deeply would perhaps be the most simple problem to solve. That is.... if the young master would permit me to show him...”

He paused only long enough to read the hesitant, unsure answer in those eyes before leaning down to claim that sweet little mouth again with only marginally less fierceness than before. He had no need for words, no need for explanations, there was more than enough time for that and right now it was only this one moment that mattered. Pulling back, he whispered into an ear as he nipped at pierced lobe.

“And now, little songbird.... I will show you what it _truly_ means to fly.”

Wings wrapped tight around them as the raven let out a laugh and they dropped like a stone into the blackness of the clouds, reveling in the storm both around and within.


End file.
